


"You're Ian."

by UniversalMasquerade



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, F/M, M/M, Mental Illness, Other, Suicide Attempt, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:16:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalMasquerade/pseuds/UniversalMasquerade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's at the end of his rope. Though before he could act in attempt to end it all, someone with insight on what it's like to be mentally ill steps in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You're Ian."

"Don't." 

Ian froze. The hand which held the shard of glass lowered slightly, though still remaining hazardously close to his wrist. His life always depended on being resourceful, knowing how to get what he and his family needed. Well now his death depended on the same methods. He managed to get the shard after someone broke one of the doctors windows in a fit of rage - the staff tried to gather it all, knowing that sharp objects in the psychiatric ward can guarantee trouble. Ian found it several feet away from the doctor's office, right in front of his own door. 

He had only been in the hospital for a week in result of a previous suicide attempt which involved aspirin. It didn't work. So he decided to try it the way his mother did it. The time was 1:30 am. It would be 2:00 when a nurse will check the room again. When his door opened, he thought he might have mistaken the schedule - though instead of a nurse, there was a girl standing in the doorway. She shut the door behind her and stepped forward, then stopped before she made it to the foot of his bed. That's when she spoke next.   
"I know you think it's bad now, but that's a permanent solution to a temporary problem." 

Ian stared at her, eyes glossed over with tears. Her hair was black, wild, untamed. Her skin tone was like a few shades darker than V's. She stood in a cautious manner, as if she were to move again he'd commit the life-ending action.   
"Why not?" he demanded, his voice holding no venom despite his effort. 

"Won't your loved ones be heart broken? I saw them visiting you the other day.. They care a lot, don't they?" 

Of course they did. The look on their faces was something he could never forget. The pain, the hurt, the fear. Like what he felt when Monica was found in the kitchen bleeding in profusion. Ian dreaded he thought of ever doing it again, yet there he was. It wasn't that he didn't try to debate himself out of it, he'd been doing so since he arrived there, but his mind provoked him. Reminding him of what little wealth they had - paying for their mother's pills required an abundance of money, leaving them practically swamped. Ian didn't think his family could take another round, even with Mickey and Mandy's assistance. Oh God, and those two.. Shouting for him to open the bathroom door, busting the knob only to find him nearly unconscious on the floor.   
"Ian, oh fuck please stay awake.. Mandy, call an ambulance! ..Ian! Ian!" Mickey tried getting him to puke while Mandy spoke rapidly into the phone. "My friend.. he- he overdosed! ..Aspirin! It was fucking aspirin! ..Yes, we're doing that!" 

Next thing he knew he was in the hospital, feeling like hell. He hadn't seen Mickey or Mandy since, they weren't family so they couldn't visit. 

They must hate him.. He really fucked things up, for everyone. The people he loved so much were going through such pain because of him. They could end up completely broke because of him. The grief that Monica caused throughout the years replayed in his mind. Ian couldn't let them go through that again.   
"That's why I'm going to do it." He said, voice quivering. "They'd be so much better off.. They'll feel bad for awhile but eventually they'll get over it, right?" 

The girl bit her lip, her expression practically screamed sympathetic.   
"What's your name?" She asked. 

"Ian." 

"I'm Lauren. Can I sit?" 

He wanted to shake his head, but found himself nodding. Lauren took a seat at the end of the bed, never breaking eye contact. 

"Ian, how old are you?" 

"Seventeen." 

"That's really young. Too young, you know? There's a life beyond what you're feeling right now - according to your age, you've got plenty of living to still do." 

"Living? Like this? I feel like I'm in hell. It hasn't stopped in weeks, every minute gets worse and worse. I feel.. I feel worthless. I'm a bad person - I've put my family through enough.. I put Mandy and Mickey through enough."   
"Mandy and Mickey?" 

"My best friend and my boyfriend. ..But I don't know if I can call them that anymore." 

Lauren sighed and nodded, showing him that she was listening. "Do you think they see you as a bad person? As worthless?" 

"Maybe. I don't know. They might not know better yet, but eventually they will." 

"You don't think your boyfriend knows better?" 

"No! I don't. The shit he had to deal with because of me? He still came back.. He still stood by me in the end. He stood by me even until I ended up here. I want him to be happy, but that won't happen if he's with me." 

"He loves you," Lauren stated, figuring that was the case. "Wouldn't you go through hell and back to help the people you love?" 

"Yes." 

"Then you can understand, even a little?" she smiled a little. "You're not worthless. You're not a bad person. Would bad people feel so much pain and guilt? Would a 'worthless' person put so much consideration for the people he cares about? ..I don't think so." she glanced down at the shard, which Ian unknowingly lowered away from his wrist. "..Do you mind if I hold that?" 

Ian didn't answer, but hesitantly handed it to her without putting much thought into it. She placed it across the room, then returned to the bed. 

"What were you diagnosed with?" 

"..Bipolar disorder."   
"I have BPD. Ian, I can't say I completely understand what it's like having bipolar disorder, but I do know a thing or two about being sick. You think the worst of yourself, at times the worst of others. ..You feel this heavy weight of misery that threatens to crush you. No motivation.. have a sense of hopelessness. You find yourself in a state of self loathing. There are days where you can't bring yourself to get out of bed. When you're angry.. god, you get pissed - but then feel like you're drowning in guilt afterwards. I get that. ..But you know what I've learned throughout my ordeal? Everything has an end, and it doesn't have to involve killing yourself."   
Tears rolled down his cheeks now. Beginning to feel reassured that maybe he wasn't the demon he thought he was. Although..

"But I can't end up like my mom." 

"Did she have it, too?" 

He nodded. 

"I see," she reached over to him, grabbing his hand. 

"Is this your mother's hand?" 

"What kind of question is that? Of course it's not."

"It was a silly question, wasn't it? Now, that brain inside your skull. Is that your mother's brain?" 

"No, but it has her disease."   
"It isn't hers, though." Lauren said gently. "It varies from person to person. We're all individuals. Things influence us in different ways. You're not you're mother. You're Ian. That hand belongs to someone named Ian. That brain functions for kid named Ian." She sat closely to him now, arm extended to wrap around him in some sort of comfort.   
"..What if this brain doesn't get any better?" 

"Got to give it a shot, I know I am. It's a disease you're going to have for the rest of your life, I won't lie, but you can recover. I've been here long enough, I've seen people liberated from their afflictions."   
Ian noticed a change in how he felt. The air didn't seem like it was suffocating him anymore. His body was somewhat lighter, as if relieved from a terrible burden he kept inside himself. He was always one to talk about problems, but ever since he fell into a depressive pit, he remained silent. Now, he finally let someone in - without fear that he'd hurt them in the process. 

"How long have you stayed here?" He asked.

"A few months. I might get discharged soon, we'll see how it goes."

"Do you feel any better though?" 

Lauren smiled. "Yeah, actually I do. When I first came in here, I threw tantrums, I thought my family abandoned me.. Mood swings went wild, self harmed.. but, through time you'll find that it does get better. As preachy as that sounds."   
Now he smiled. "I believe you." 

They were silent for a little while, just breathing. Ian wasn't feeling perfect, far from, but this was a start. They found themselves laying down, staring at the ceiling in thought.

Suddenly, Lauren turned to him.

"So," she said, propping her head on her hand. "Tell me about Mickey. What's he like?" 

"Oh god," he laughed. "He's..." 

Ian told Lauren all about the boy he loved, how stubborn he was but how caring he is underneath. About his tattoos, his smell, his profession, their first time, everything. By time the nurse checked in the room, Lauren and Ian were asleep. By the door, the shard of glass was placed - unused, and never to be used.


End file.
